


Of Two-Faced Cuties

by gold_ty95



Series: Of Roommates With Benefits [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aromantic, Bottom Nakamoto Yuta, Dom Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Porn With Plot, Roommates, Sub Nakamoto Yuta, Top Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, ish?, yuta ain't down for love but he's down for dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_ty95/pseuds/gold_ty95
Summary: Yuta and romance were two things that had never gone well together, and he didn't think they ever would.Not even for the cute Chinese transfer that moved in with them.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Nakamoto Yuta/Everyone
Series: Of Roommates With Benefits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923760
Comments: 29
Kudos: 225





	Of Two-Faced Cuties

Yuta didn’t do romance.

And no, it wasn’t because he was some terrible flirt that couldn’t get people to fall for him. Quite the opposite, actually.

It’s just… romance had never been a big part of his life. Not in Japan, not in Korea, not ever. He didn’t care about it, and he wasn’t going to start caring now.

Not even for his cute soon-to-be roommate. Fifth roommate, at that.

When Yuta first moved to Korea, he stayed at the college dorms with a whole other bunch of foreign students. It was then that he met Johnny Seo, a Chicago transfer that looked like every high school drama protagonist’s wet dream, with his huge arms and cool smiles.

They were assigned roommates, which was great because Johnny was cool. He had a weird obsession with coffee and used this adorable voice whenever he talked about dogs. And he was bi, fucking hot and very horny, and — hey, so was Yuta! What a coincidence.

Yuta hadn’t been a stranger to casual sex, so sleeping with Johnny came naturally. But things started changing because they fucked and then went on dates and Yuta found out Johnny was a sappy romantic, but no matter how many flowers Johnny bought him, he couldn’t feel anything. There was nothing. Nada. Just an empty feeling that had him wondering if being in love was supposed to work like that or if he was just weird.

So, no romance. Not even for hot, cool, sexy and sweet Johnny. He was sorry, mostly because he didn’t want to stop having sex. But if breaking things off was better for them, then so be it.

Surprisingly, Johnny was chill, so they kept fucking and going out on dates, but never really calling them dates. They were good for each other, Yuta could see it. But he never felt that spark people always talked about it.

“It is what it is,” Johnny told him one day, with puffy eyes and swollen lips. He’d been crying because of Yuta and his stupid inability to fucking fall in love.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe we should stop fucking? You know, for you to stop liking me.”

Johnny had looked at him, face blank.

“No,” he said. “No, I don’t think it’ll matter. I just need to wake up.”

“Are you sure? Like, really sure?”

“Yeah,” Johnny breathed, giving him a once over. “You’re too fucking hot to pass on.”

The sex was still bomb.

Around six months later, Jung Jaehyun came around with his stupid smirk and smoking hot abs that had Yuta choking on his tea whenever he walked around shirtless.

Jaehyun lived in America for four years, so it wasn’t rare for Yuta to roam the dorm and hear the two speaking in English. Sometimes it annoyed him, so he’d talk to them in Japanese just to piss them off. It kind of backfired when he got Jaehyun in his bed and was told to moan in Japanese, though.

Which. Was hot.

Jaehyun always brought Taeyong around, a pretty boy with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile. Taeyong was small and dainty and _so easy_ to tease.

He made very pretty noises when Yuta had his cock deep down his throat.

“Is it normal to have fucked half your friends?” Taeyong asked one day when they were seated on the floor eating ramen. 

Yuta shrugged. 

“Sex is fun.”

Taeyong was planning on moving out of his parents’ house, but he didn’t really want to share a dorm with some stranger because he was terrified of them being a slob. Yuta thought it was cute that he freaked out over germs until he had to help him through a panic attack because he bit into an apple that hadn’t been washed.

“Mysophobia,” Taeyong had explained, curled up against Yuta’s side. “And OCD.”

“Aw, shit,” Yuta said. “That sucks.”

“It is what it is.”

“Taeyong, no — what the fuck.”

It was Yuta who suggested renting a place for the four of them, and he wasn’t all that surprised when they were immediately up for it. So, they found a flat near the campus — a little far from the bar they always went to, but sacrifices had to be made — and rented it.

The problem: they needed a fifth roommate. 

Yuta was a bit wary at first. He wondered if bringing someone else into their dynamic would shake things up, and not in a good way. They’d grown close to each other over the year, in more ways than one.

But when Jaehyun brought over his classmate, Dong Sicheng, who happened to be looking for a place to stay, Yuta’s doubts flew right out the window.

To put it short, Sicheng was arguably the most adorable human being on earth. He was even cuter than Mark Lee, the Canadian kid who part timed at the library and was subject to Yuta’s endless pestering.

Sicheng was soft spoken words and shy smiles, a quiet presence that made heads turn. He was a transfer from China, and Yuta gathered all the broken Chinese he’d learned from tutoring a high schooler named Chenle and tried speaking with him. They were more random words than anything else, but Sicheng got adorably happy and promised to learn some Japanese in return.

Which, holy fucking shit, was so cute. If Yuta felt anything keen to romantic attraction, it would’ve been then. 

But nope. Still nothing.

“Do you have any rules? Like, anything you don’t want us to do?” Jaehyun asked.

The five of them were seated at a local café where Taeyong worked, huddled up in a booth. It’d been pretty clear they’d all immediately clicked with Sicheng, and the whole process of moving was just a few papers away from being complete.

“Not that I can think of,” Sicheng answered. “I like my privacy, but I’m sure you do too.”

Yuta snorted, which earned him a kick from Taeyong.

“Sometimes we stay up pretty late at night,” Jaehyun continued, “Is that okay?”

“Sure. I sleep with my earbuds in, anyway, so,” Sicheng said with a kind smile.

“I guess that settles it, then”

“One more thing,” Yuta started. “If you hear someone moaning, it’s probably Taeyong. He can’t be quiet for— ow, fuck!”

Sicheng’s eyes crinkled when he laughed.

God, he was adorable.

Except maybe he wasn’t.

It took about a month for Yuta to find out that he wasn’t all sweet talk and shy smiles.

He felt pretty ashamed to admit that a small part of him initially thought Sicheng to be a bit of a prude. Could you blame him? The boy was pretty closed off and got quiet whenever _the sexys_ were mentioned. 

Yeah, no. 

This was Yuta’s first misconception.

First of all, Sicheng wasn’t all that shy with his body. More than once Yuta woke up to see him lounging around shirtless and _dear god_ that wasn’t healthy for his sex-fueled brain. Like his face, Sicheng’s torso was gorgeous. It was sharp lines and strong muscle, smooth skin that Yuta really wanted to lick, for some reason.

But he was still adorable, and Yuta felt aroused just at the thought of fucking him.

Which was his second misconception. 

Unfortunately, this one took a little longer for him to figure out because Sicheng never went as far as explicitly hinting he wanted to sleep with him, and Yuta wasn’t one to push. 

So, instead, when he saw him in a big hoodie and fluffy bed hair, he ignored his hard-on until he could fuck Taeyong in the shower with one hand clasped over his mouth and the other wrapped around his dick, unrelenting even after Taeyong came over and over and _over_ again. 

“You should just ask him if he wants to sleep with you,” Taeyong said, leaning against his chest while Yuta brushed his hair back. The bathroom was stuffy and misty, their bodies were still soaking wet and Yuta just wanted to dry himself and get out, but Taeyong always loved being babied after sex, so he made do.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sicheng.”

“I don’t know,” Yuta murmured, putting the brush down and wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s torso. “I don’t think he wants to have sex with anyone.”

“Have you tried, maybe, asking him?”

“No.”

“Then please do.” Taeyong turned around and cupped his face with both his hands. “Also, don’t fuck me while you’re thinking about him. Pretty low, even for you.”

“Shit,” Yuta hissed, letting his forehead fall on Taeyong’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Yong.”

“S’fine. You can make it up to me later.”

He grinned, craning his neck to nibble on Taeyong’s jaw.

“I said later, we literally just— o-oh, Yuta…”

Sex, in general, was good. Very good. 

He wasn’t picky. Top, bottom, left, right, it really didn’t matter to him. Having Johnny fuck him so hard his legs ached the next day was awesome. Both riding Jaehyun _and_ having Jaehyun ride him were absolutely amazing. And fucking Taeyong until he moaned _hit me_ in that pretty pitched voice he used when he was close? Superb.

Point is: he liked it all.

And yeah, he was too quick to judge. But Sicheng’s appearance was so easy to be fooled by.

It happened on a whim. They were both at home, under Yuta’s blankets watching Naruto on his laptop, when Sicheng decided it’d be a good idea to grab Yuta’s thigh. Which was normal. They did that all the time — just bros being bros, you know?

Except Yuta had already been riled up since the early morning, when he’d heard Johnny and Jaehyun doing the do just across the hall.

So, he squirmed a bit, hoping Sicheng got the message — _please let go I’m fucking horny and not sure if you want to sleep with me or not —_ while trying to focus on the screen. 

Instead, Sicheng grunted and tightened his hold, feeling up Yuta’s thigh. It made him blush, which was weird because Yuta didn’t _blush_. He felt a faint tug in his gut when Sicheng pulled his thigh up to settle it atop his legs, because god, he was _strong_. Yuta could feel it in the way both his hands now gripped his muscle, tight enough he couldn’t move.

Yuta glanced up at him, but Sicheng’s eyes were fixed on the screen and his face was calm, unbothered.

It made him wriggle around even more, unsure of what to do with himself. But when Sicheng said “Stop moving,” in a voice so stern and demanding that Yuta’s stomach dropped, he froze in place. 

This wasn’t anything like the cute, shy Sicheng he’d met. 

His insides twisted and he got the heated urge to argue, but something told him to clamp his mouth shut and _not_ say anything snarky. 

It certainly didn’t help that one of Sicheng’s hands started sliding up his thigh, so slowly Yuta wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t so hyperaware of the touch. It stopped just under the junction between his hip and his leg and drummed against the flesh. A steady, _tap, tap, tap,_ that echoed in Yuta’s mind.

“It’s a shame you’re wearing sweatpants, really,” Sicheng suddenly said. Yuta swallowed the dry lump in his throat, because he needed to protect his dignity, dammit.

“What do you mean?”

“You have such pretty legs,” was not the answer he expected. 

He smirked.

“Yeah? You like them?”

Sicheng looked down at him. Yuta couldn’t read his expression in the dim light, but he still felt his stomach twist. 

Was this Sicheng’s _okay, lets fuck_?

“Yes, I do.”

The way he said it, so calmly and steadily as if it didn’t make a difference, sent a wave of heat in Yuta’s insides.

“I bet yours are, too,” Yuta said. “But you’ll need to show me, just so I can be sure.”

For a few seconds, Sicheng just stared at him, face schooled to show no readable emotion.

Then, he moved slowly, deliberately, and Yuta tried to be more subtle with the way his breath hitched when his roommate closed the laptop and placed it beside his bed. For a few moments he only heard Sicheng shuffling around, before he felt two legs on either of his sides and realised he’d sat in front of him, legs spread so Yuta was settled between them.

“You’re pretty demanding,” Sicheng muttered lowly. Yuta wished he could see the look on his face, but the dark room made it impossible to distinguish anything beyond the curves and sharp edges of his silhouette. 

“Only with boys that will listen.” 

It felt risky whispering the words into the silence. He knew it’d been a mistake before they’d even left his mouth, and the dry chuckle he got in return only proved him right.

“I think you’re a bit confused there, babe,” Sicheng mumbled. “Who said you’d be the one calling the shots, hm?”

Yuta ignored the way his heart sped up and his stomach clenched, and smiled wider.

“Well, a pretty boy like you needs—”

His mouth snapped shut when a gentle hand rested on his clavicle, just under his neck. The fingers dancing along his Adam’s apple, soft but threatening much like Sicheng’s own presence, made his blood rush south.

The fuck?

“What?” Sicheng demanded, unwavering. “What does a _pretty boy like me_ need?”

When Yuta breathed in shakily, Sicheng brought his hand up and properly wrapped it around his neck. There was barely any pressure, just the touch of skin against skin, but Yuta’s dick twitched in his pants and heat flared inside him and _what the fuck_ happened to the other Sicheng?

“What’s the matter?” he teased. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I—” Yuta started, but cut himself off with a gasp when the hand on his neck squeezed.

“You know, you’re pretty pathetic,” Sicheng hummed, making Yuta’s stomach sink. “You act all tough and mean, like you actually have any power.” He leaned in to whisper against his ear. “But you’re just a softie, aren’t you? So pretty, so bratty.”

His cheeks felt so warm he feared they’d start glowing red in the darkness.

“No,” Yuta muttered weakly. “I’m— I’m not.”

“Yuta, Yuta.” Sicheng used his other hand to tilt Yuta’s head up, nudging his chin with a delicate finger. Their lips ghosted over each other, just a hair length’s away from touching. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Sicheng, I…”

“Or maybe you thought you’d be the one fucking me, yeah?”

Yuta whimpered.

“Did you?” Sicheng laughed dryly, squeezing his neck tighter. Yuta quivered beneath the touch, suddenly thankful for the lack of light. He was sure he would have absolutely melted under the weight of Sicheng’s eyes. “Really? You thought you had it in you to fuck me?”

“Y-yes.”

“You don’t.”

He swallowed, the sound too loud in the room’s silence. He was aching in his pants, so hard he had to bite his lip to stop himself from touching.

“So, I’ll ask you again,” Sicheng said. “And I want you to tell me the truth. Do you want me to fuck you?”

A small sound ripped from Yuta’s throat, so quiet it could have easily been missed. But Sicheng gripped his jaw with the hand on his chin and forced him back against the bed frame. It was a warning, a demand for an answer.

“Yes,” Yuta breathed.

“Come again? I couldn’t hear you. Speak up, babe.”

“Yes,” he said, firmer.

“Yes what?”

He groaned.

“Come on, you know what.”

In a split second, Sicheng had one knee pressed against his thigh, pushing it away and forcing his legs open, while the other dug into his groin. Yuta moaned, loud and high pitched and _so_ unlike him. 

“I asked you,” Sicheng scowled, “Yes _what_?” 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me.” 

He sounded too whiny even to his own ears, like a spoilt child about to throw a tantrum. It was weird, unfamiliar, and yet no less welcome. 

Yuta had never given much thought to kinks. He hated pain, whether he was on the receiving end like Taeyong or the one inflicting it, like Johnny.He never liked wearing frilly lace for Jaehyun, and the one time he’d been cuffed to a bed frame he panicked so hard he got soft, so.

Yeah. He’d just always thought that maybe kinks were like romance: abso-fucking-lutely not for him. 

Only…

The heat inside him was spreading, curling around his limbs and spewing him further on unlike any other sex he’s had, and all because of a few words. 

Was this a kink? Did word-kinks exist?

“Yeah? How bad do you want it?”

Yuta whined, bucking up against the knee on his crotch. Sicheng didn’t budge, still so close but too far away.

“I want it so bad. So, so bad.”

A satisfied hum was all he got as a warning before their lips met in a heated kiss. Yuta’s stubbornness held onto the sliver of dominance still in him and tried to take control of it, but all Sicheng had to do was press him further against the bed frame and squeeze his neck for his mouth to fall open and a wet moan to get lost between them.

Sicheng kissed like he had all the time in the world. It was a slow, torturous drag of his tongue against the roof of Yuta’s mouth, cautiously forcing him into his headspace before he could even notice. He didn’t move his hands or knees, kept them still while Yuta rolled his hips up and squirmed, trying to find some sort of relief.

“Come on, touch me,” he mewled.

“So demanding,” Sicheng snarled. “Don’t you know how to be fucking patient?”

“You’re the one dragging this out.”

“Just take what I give you.” 

Yuta moaned.

“No, it isn’t enough.”

Sicheng let go of him altogether, scooting back on the bed. Yuta panicked, searching with his fingers what his eyes couldn’t see, and he felt a surge of relief when two strong hands grabbed his.

“What I give you is enough,” Sicheng said, leaving no space for argument. “It’s either that or nothing, so take it and stop being a brat.” 

Yuta whimpered, letting himself be pulled closer to the other.

“You got that?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, straddling him with Sicheng’s help. 

“Good. You’re doing good.”

What the fuck.

Nothing could have prepared Yuta for the way his body reacted, a moan spilling past his lips and his hips rutting down to meet Sicheng’s because holy _fuck_ that turned him on so much. He didn’t even think it was possible to feel more aroused than before, but there he was, throbbing in his pants and spilling a string of dirty noises.

“You like that, don’t you?” Sicheng chuckled. “You just act like a bitch so someone can put you in your place, right? So they can tell you you’re good?” Yuta moaned something incoherent. “To be good you have to listen to what you’re told, yeah? So, go ahead and strip for me.” 

He frantically nodded and peeled off his shirt, ignoring his crumpling pride in favor of feeding this overwhelming need to _obey_ , to do what he was told so that he’d be called a… a—

“Good boy.”

He shuddered.

“Ah, Sicheng…” 

“Go on, now. Off with the rest.”

His mind was cloudy as he rose to his shaky knees and pulled off his sweatpants, hissing when they dragged against his crotch. He heard a feint click and the room was flooded by a dim light, not too bright but just enough to see clearly.

Sicheng looked at him, _really_ looked, and Yuta tried his very best to will away the heat in his cheeks. For fucks sake, he had a hell of an ego and was well aware he was hot as fuck, but for some reason Sicheng’s hard stare made him want to pull his clothes back on and shy away.

He sat on his heels, hands on his knees, unsure of what to do with himself. Biting his lip, he looked up at Sicheng, who raised a brow as if he were saying “Well? Go on.”

Yuta took a deep breath and hooked his fingers in the waistband of his boxers, suddenly too hyperaware of the the eyes on him. With a shaky exhale, he pulled them down at once and bit his lip when his dick caught in the fabric.

Sicheng, who was still very much clothed, let out a pleased hum.

“You too,” Yuta whispered, only to get an unamused look in return.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“But… but I did, so—”

“So you’re a good boy, yeah?” Sicheng interrupted, gently nudging him backwards until his bare back hit the bed frame. “I’m in charge here, and you listen to me. Not the other way around.” He settled in front of Yuta and pried his legs open. “You’re so hard, Yuta. Want to tell me why?”

As he said this, he wrapped his hand ever so slowly around Yuta’s dick, just above the base, and that alone was enough for shivers to course through his body.

“A-ah, I don’t— ugh…”

“Come on,” Sicheng urged. He dragged his hand up and settled with it cupping the head, giving it small squeezes that made Yuta jolt. “Tell me.”

“You, Sicheng,” he gasped. “I-I’m hard for you.”

“Only me?”

“Yes!” He squeaked when Sicheng started moving and twisting around the tip. “Yes, yes, yes, only for you!”

For a while, he was quiet while Yuta moaned as he worked on his dick, sliding and twisting and squeezing so hard there were stars in his eyes. Yuta risked glancing at him, but his dark eyes were boring holes straight into his and that was enough to have him bucking up and the knot in his stomach tightening.

Fucking hell, this was going to be the death of him.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, right?”

“Yes, yes, ah!”

Sicheng’s hand still.

“I’ll do that—” 

Yuta keened .

“— but I have a rule. Do you think you can obey?”

“Anything, anything, Sicheng. I can!” He tried rolling his hips up into the heat, but Sicheng had a firm hand on his waist that stopped him from moving.

“You can only cum when I let you. Can you do that?” 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, that was hot.

“Yes…” he exhaled shakily.

Sicheng smiled and let go of his dick.

“That’s a good boy.” He leaned in for a kiss, softer, and Yuta positively melted.

Sicheng had him on his back while he fingered him open as slowly as he first kissed him, taking his time in dragging one finger along his walls then scissoring two against his rim. By three, Yuta reached down to tug at his neglected dick — because _fuck_ he needed some sort of release — but Sicheng immediately slapped his hand away.

“No,” he said, firmly. “Don’t touch.”

“Ngh!”

And Yuta, in the clouded haze of his mind, couldn’t find it in himself to bite back. 

It felt so foreign. So good.

When Sicheng curled his fingers up, searching, Yuta mewled. And when he found his prostate, Yuta saw white as his back arched up, off the bed, and his mouth opened wide enough for a series of curses to come out in that awfully whiny voice.

He had half the mind to bite his finger a second before he could reach down to touch himself, recalling what Sicheng had ordered. The pain was just enough to clear his mind and stop himself from feeling _too_ good.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Sicheng whispered while he pulled out, and the words helped him ignore the dreadful feeling of being empty. “Is that okay?”

Okay? _Okay_?

Fuck, it was so much more than okay, and Yuta wanted to tell him that but all that came out was a dragged out moan that made Sicheng chuckle, because apparently he was just that mean.

“How do you want it?” he asked, but Yuta couldn’t answer, not when he heard the foil of a condom package ripping open. Sicheng didn’t seem to like this, so he gave him a light tap on his cheek that jolted him back into reality. “Hey, hey. Answer me.”

“W-what?”

Yuta risked opening his eyes — which had fallen closed at some point, he wasn’t really sure when — and saw Sicheng grinning at him before a he stole a quick peck to his lips.

“Cute,” he muttered, petting Yuta’s hair back. “So cute, so pretty.” Yuta moaned when he grabbed his dick. “But I need you to tell me how you want it. On your back? All fours?”

He took a deep breath to try and clear his scrambled mind.

“Like this,” he muttered shyly, hooking his ankles behind Sicheng’s lower back to pull him closer.

“Good,” Sicheng said, and although it wasn’t exactly meant for Yuta, he still moaned.

He lifted his hips when a pillow nudged against them and spread his legs wider, inviting. He watched Sicheng with hooded eyes, twitching when he rolled a condom down his dick and pumped it a few times, letting out a low, guttural sound that was just so _hot_.

His skin tingled.

Sicheng was anything but small. Sure, he wasn’t as big as the fucking monstrosity Johnny kept in his pants, but he was still big enough to make a nervous bubble bloom in Yuta’s chest. There was always this distant wonder when he bottomed, a small voice asking _will it even fit_?

It did, and it fit so well the thought of dying on this dick felt satisfying to him.

Is this really what he’d been reduced to? Geez.

Sicheng bottomed out with a grunt that Yuta almost missed because of all the goddamn noises coming out of his own mouth. The tip of his dick was nudged right against his prostate, hard enough that it made him twitch but too little to be satisfying.

If only Sicheng would _move_ , but instead he just stilled, hands on Yuta’s waist and a stupid smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” Yuta moaned, fisting the sheets. “Jesus— fuck.”

“Feels good?”

“Yes— shit, Sicheng.”

He rolled his hips, and Yuta mewled.

“I bet it does. And you’re taking it so well, Yuta. So good for me.”

He moaned, throwing his head back.

Sicheng started moving, slow and careful, pulling away and sliding back in with a pace so torturous Yuta could feel ever little bit of his dick. His thrusts were calculated, and every single time he bucked forward he hit his prostate dead on, so hard it made him cry out.

When he picked up his pace, Yuta had to scramble to piece himself back together, because everything felt so sensitive and he was _close_ dammit.

“Sicheng! Sicheng, please, I — ah!”

“Are you close?” he asked, breathless but otherwise calm, serene.

“Yes! So close, so close…”

In a blink of an eye, Sicheng had a hand around his neck again. It wasn’t enough to choke — thank god, Yuta wanted to fucking breathe, thank you very much — but it made him feel so _owned_ , and that thought alone made him gasp.

“You come when I let you, remember?” Sicheng growled into his ear. “You do what _I_ tell you. You listen to _me_.”

“Jesus— what the fuck,” Yuta moaned, lost in his own pleasure. “Please, please, Sicheng, let me come. Please…”

The sound of skin against skin thrummed in the room along with Yuta’s loud moans and Sicheng’s groans. 

Desperation started to crawl up his throat as the knot in his gut tightened, threatening to undo itself for him to finally get his release.

But he couldn’t.

He had to be a _good boy_.

God, what the fuck happened to him?

“Sicheng— argh!” Yuta yelped when he felt a hand around his dick, setting a ruthless rhythm of sliding up and back down. “No, no, I-I’ll come!”

“You can come—” he almost cried in relief “—after I’ve come.”

Spoke too soon.

Ugh.

Sicheng continued to fuck him hard all while pumping his dick, and Yuta tried to pull his hand away to no avail.

“Don’t touch,” he was told.

So he didn’t. Because he was _good_.

Holding on proved to be nearly impossible, especially when Sicheng lost his rhythm and fucked into him in an animalistic pace, seeking his own release. It felt like hours before he slowed, burying himself deep inside Yuta and filling up the condom.

Yuta wasn’t sure what to do with himself. The hand on his dick had stilled and the desperation was still overwhelming, so he thrusted up and keened when the fingers squeezed.

“Hmm, pretty,” Sicheng hummed, pleased. “You did so good, Yuta. Such a good boy. Do you want to come?”

Yuta moaned something along the lines of _yes please_ and tried not to whine too much when Sicheng pulled out. 

“You do, right? You heard what I said before. Come whenever you’d like, babe.”

And suddenly there was a hand rolling down a condom on his dick, and then a wet, soft heat that made him gasp. Sicheng dragged his tongue along the veins, twisting with his hand what didn’t fit in his mouth and sucking hard on the head when he pulled up.

He came with a silent scream, back arched up towards the ceiling and mind gone blank.

“So you have a praise kink?”

“Shit, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Johnny looked at him mid-coffee sip, one eyebrow raised and a stupidly condescending smile on his face. “Fuck off, you do have a praise kink.”

They were sitting at the café, just him, Johnny and Taeyong, who had about a half-hour long break before his next shift — a half-hour that Yuta almost completely used up just to retell what happened two nights ago.

“Huh.”

He hadn’t really thought about it. After Sicheng had cleaned him up and cuddled him under the blankets, he’d immediately fallen asleep. And then the next day he’d gone to an early lecture and spent the whole day on campus. And then he was just busy.

Very busy, yes.

He wasn’t ignoring Sicheng, at least not on purpose. But he really, seriously, didn’t want to think about _it_.

“Dude. I do have a praise kink.”

“Glad you figured that one out,” Johnny chuckled. “Is vanilla completely ruined for you now?”

“No,” Yuta said, slowly. “Wait… maybe.”

“Fuck. Is this my goodbye to vanilla?”

“Oh, shut up. You’re literally the kinkiest.”

Johnny gasped, affronted.

“How can you say that with your whole chest when Lee Taeyong is literally right here?”

Yuta cackled and glanced beside him, where Taeyong had gone suspiciously silent. He was beet red from his neck up to the tips of his ears, eyes kind of unfocused.

“Hey,” Yuta called for him. “You good, Yong?”

“Y-yeah, fine,” he answered, too quickly.

Yuta frowned.

“You sure? You don’t seem so well, do you want—”

“Yuta,” came Johnny’s firm voice. He waved his hand, and it barely took a second for realisation to dawn on Yuta when he saw the small pink remote he held.

“I stand corrected. You’re both kinky fucks.”

“Anyways,” Johnny continued casually, very obviously clicking the remote and making Taeyong jolt. “How come you let him dom you like that?” He pouted, a very Johnny pout. “You almost never let me do that.”

Yuta shrugged and grabbed Taeyong’s thigh when he started trembling. 

“I don’t know? Like, Sicheng’s all cute and stuff, right? Totally my type—”

“You don’t have a type, you think everyone’s hot.”

“—and I really expected him to be all cute and soft except… he wasn’t. Which was…” He cleared his throat. “Shocking.”

Johnny huffed and leaned back on his chair.

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

“Um, sorry?”

“Nah, you’re good. Did you talk to him, though?”

Yuta groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Yuta,” Johnny warned.

“Ugh, fuck. No, I didn’t.”

Of course he didn’t. He was Nakamoto fucking Yuta he did not Talk. It was the worst part. Ruined all the fun. Buzzkill.

Or, get this, maybe he was just a shitty human being.

“Dammit, Yuta,” Johnny sighed. 

“Y-you idiot, just talk—” Taeyong snapped his mouth shut and shivered, and Yuta was actually pretty glad because Taeyong had a way of making it impossible for him not to feel bad about his shitty decisions. 

“Talk to him. Don’t let this happen again.”

Ouch.

“Come on, it isn’t my fault I can’t be a lovey-dovey boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but you _can_ be a good friend.”

Shit.

Sicheng was sitting in the living room when Yuta got home.

He’d left Johnny and Taeyong at the café — the last thing he heard was Taeyong scowling _No the fuck you won’t_ when Johnny said he was going to blow him in the café bathroom — with a promise to make everything perfectly clear to Sicheng.

Except there were complications.

Like the fact that Sicheng was shirtless.With wet hair. Sitting with his legs spread, and _yes_ Yuta was well aware that manspreading was a shitty thing and fucking disrespectful, but he looked so damn hot he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Hey, Sicheng!” he chirped.

He got a deep “Hey,” and a lazy smile in return.

God, even with his abs and guns out Sicheng managed to be cute, ugh.

Going against his best judgement, Yuta plopped beside him after he dropped his things at the doorway — Taeyong would kill him later, but whatever.

He ignored the way his insides tumbled when Sicheng immediately grabbed his thigh.

“What you doing?”

“Not much,” Sicheng grumbled. “But I was actually thinking of doing something.”

Yeah, Yuta knew where this was going. And he found it fucking adorable.

“Oh yeah?” he smiled. “And what’s that?”

“You.”

Ignoring the voice in the back of his head — which sounded an awful lot like Johnny — he giggled and leaned forward, eyes glued on Sicheng’s lips. Before he could reach them, though, a hand gripped his throat and stopped him in his tracks.

Did Sicheng have a thing for throats? It sure seemed like it.

Not that Yuta minded. He actually kind of liked it. A lot.

_Shit_ , did Yuta have a thing for throats?

“Wait,” Sicheng ordered. He whined in return because come _on_ he just wanted a kiss. “Shut up, you’re so fucking impatient.”

“No, you just take too fucking long.”

“I’m sorry,” Sicheng growled, “but do I have to remind you who had you moaning like a little bitch two days ago?”

“That was nothing,” Yuta lied. He seriously needed to shut the fuck up, but a part of him thrived when it saw the growing anger in Sicheng’s eyes.

“You’re being a brat again. That’s not how good boys behave.”

_Fuck_.

Yuta closed his eyes with a shaky exhale.

“Look at me.” He did. “You’re going to listen — and listen _well_. Can you do that?”

He nodded.

“Speak,” Sicheng spat.

“Yes, yes, I’ll listen. I’m listening.”

Sicheng seemed pleased, and Yuta tried not to feel too disappointed when he didn’t get any praise in return.

Aha.

Praise.

Kink. Huh.

“Now, I think we got a little too ahead of ourselves. I need to make sure you really want this.” Yuta almost scoffed. “Do you?”

“Yes, of course I do, the fuck.”

Sicheng frowned and squeezed his neck.

“Don’t fucking talk back. That’s one of my rules.”

R-rules?

Shit. Okay. Yuta was hard.

“I’m going to tell you the rest of them and you’re to warn me if there’s anything you don’t like, got it?”

Yuta nodded, then immediately realised his mistake.

“Yes, I got it.”

“Good. You know this already, but you only get to come when I let you.” Yuta twitched, feeling shy when Sicheng leaned in. “Tell me, babe, do you like pain?”

“No.”

Sicheng faltered, eyes widening a fraction.

“No?”

Yuta internally cursed at himself and panicked.

“Yeah, um. No. Sorry — I'm really sorry, I know it’s pretty lame and stupid because, fuck, a lot of people are into that kind of stuff but I just never really felt it, you know? Lame, lame, I know, and I’m—”

“Yuta.” He winced. “It isn’t lame. Just shocked me a bit.”

He pouted.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sicheng shook his head firmly. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, you’re perfect just like this, babe. It only surprised me because, well, I do have my hand around your fucking throat like, right now.”

He squeezed a bit.

“I don’t know, it’s… it’s different, I guess.”

“Good different?”

“Yeah. Really good different. I don’t know why."

Sicheng smiled sweetly.

“That’s fine, Yuta. I’m glad you told me.” He gently pushed him down until his back hit the sofa. “Now, tell me your safe word, yeah?”

“Cherry.”

“Good boy.” Sicheng nosed along his clavicle, nibbling softly on the skin of his neck. “Do you want to take this to my room?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Hmm.” He licked behind Yuta’s earlobe. “And just one more thing.”

“W-what?”

“I don’t like sharing my stuff. And this—” he grabbed Yuta’s dick over his pants, making him whine “—is mine. And you don’t _ever_ get to touch what’s mine, unless I say so.”

Sweet baby Jesus on a dildo, Yuta might just die.

If he thought the Sicheng from the other night was a complete one-eighty from his cute roommate Sicheng he was wrong, because somehow he got worse.

Maybe “worse” wasn’t the best way to describe it, because holy hell Yuta was loving it.

“Up,” Sicheng said with a tap to his thigh.

He had him kneeling on the bed, knees spread a shoulder-length’s apart, more than enough for Sicheng to reach under him and fuck his fingers inside. He’d been told to stay still, but it was proving to be impossible when every timefingers prodded on his prostate his hips would drop and Sicheng would scowl unhappily.

“Keep them up, Yuta. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“S-sorry.”

“No you aren’t. You aren’t even trying to be good.”

“That’s not true, I— ngh!”

“Rules, Yuta.”

His wrists were tied behind his back with a ribbon that Sicheng promised he could rip if it made him uncomfortable. 

Sure, the feeling wasn’t all that great, but he had to admit that not being able to reach forward and touch his long neglected dick was kind of hot.

And frustrating.

He looked down at it’s angry red tip and twitching length, and Sicheng followed his eyes, staring at it pitifully.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” he whined.

“But you’re liking it aren’t you? You told me you don’t like pain, but here you are.”

Yuta moaned and locked his thighs in place to stop himself from sitting back when Sicheng prodded at his sweet spot again.

“You know, you don’t have to want me to hit you to be a pain slut. You’re just as pathetic, not even begging me to touch your cock because you like it that much, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Sicheng slowed his wrist, stilling it just outside his rim. Yuta bit his cheek in an attempt at convincing himself not to fuck himself down on them.

“What if I didn’t let you come at all?”

He gasped, trembling all over. 

“Shit, I should have known you’d love that. You don’t even care if you don’t get to come. As long as someone tells you you’re a good boy you’ll be satisfied, huh?”

“Oh, god, Sicheng!”

“Will you?”

“Yes!”

“Good to know,” was as much of a warning he got before Sicheng rammed his fingers back in, massaging his prostate until he was nearly toppling over with the effort of trying to keep himself up. “I want to see your pretty face stuffed with my cock.”

Yuta keened, searching for Sicheng’s lips when he slipped his fingers out again and closed in on him with his clean hand on his waist.

“You’ll do that for me?”

In his desperateness, Yuta couldn’t bring himself to speak. But his frantic nod was enough for Sicheng, who kissed him wetly and helped him sit on his heels on the carpet beside his bed.

With his hands bound, Yuta could do nothing but watch while Sicheng rolled down a condom and stroked his own dick, staring hotly at the boy in front of him.

And when he touched the heel of his foot against Yuta’s cock, pressing it into the floor, Yuta positively saw stars.

Everything Sicheng did was just so effortlessly arousing, it really wasn’t fair.

“Open up, babe.” And he did, so eagerly it should have been embarrassing.

The latex tasted bitter and Yuta almost wished he could take his cock without the condom, but the sheer girth was enough to make up for it. It felt so good to slide up and down the shaft, listening to Sicheng grunt when he sucked on the head or lapped at the base. 

Yuta knew he gave good head, but hearing it come from Sicheng boosted his ego more than it’s ever been boosted (which was saying a lot).

“That’s it, Yuta,” Sicheng moaned with a roll of his hips that almost made him choke. “You take me so well, babe. So good.”

He hissed when Yuta whined around his cock and rubbed himself against the foot on his crotch with nothing on his mind except his own pleasure and the desperate need to make Sicheng feel good. 

It took a few more moans for Sicheng to come, stuffing himself in Yuta’s mouth so deep his dick almost hit the back of his throat and dragging his orgasm out with shallow thrusts. Yuta huffed while he continued to rock his hips forward in search of that delicious friction. 

He was so close it hurt, and Sicheng only noticed once his high wore off.

Gentle fingers threaded through his hair, softly massaging his scalp. Nothing stopped him from getting himself off on Sicheng’s foot, but, in the very back of his mind, he knew it’d be pointless, because—

“I didn’t say you could come yet, Yuta. Be careful”

His eyes burned and his bottom lip hurt from how hard he was biting it, but he forced himself to sit still. Moving would only make it worse, he knew it, but this didn’t mean it was any easier to convince himself to stop getting off.

Shit, he was so close.

Sicheng pulled him up gently, until he was straddling him, and Yuta tried not to topple over, which was difficult considering he couldn’t fucking move his hands.

He dropped his head forward and panted against Sicheng’s neck when the other grabbed his dick and jerked him off — if he could even call it that. His hand moved so slowly it drove Yuta insane and made every bone in his body want to buck up into the hold.

But he didn’t.

“Good boy.” 

He moaned, loud and pathetic. It was then that he felt the first tear roll down his face, and he almost panicked because _never_ had he cried during sex. But then Sicheng flicked his wrist at the head and the thought was long forgotten as his pleasure built and more tears fell.

“Good boy, so good. You do everything I say, listen to me so well, don’t you?” 

Yuta sobbed into Sicheng’s shoulder, balling his hands into fists to ground himself.

“Answer me,” Sicheng demanded and squeezed the tip between his fingers.

“Y-yes!” Yuta cried out. “Every-everything you say, Sicheng. I-I listen, I listen…”

“Yes you do,” Sicheng hummed. “And you’ll listen to me now too, right?”

“A-always—ah!”

“Hm.” Sicheng pulled his hand away with one last tug, and Yuta didn’t know whether to be thankful or not. “I want your cock to get soft, can you do that?”

It was framed like a question, but they both knew it was an order. Yuta sobbed harder.

“Y-yes.”

“I’ll be so proud of you, babe,” Sicheng murmured, carefully brushing through his hair. “I’m going to untie you now, and I shouldn’t have to warn you not to try and get off.”

“I… I won’t.”

“You won’t.”

Yuta wasn’t really sure what happened next. He was trembling the whole time Sicheng moved around, untying him and laying him back on the bed. He tried to cling onto him but Sicheng muttered something about cleaning up and he let go.

It hurt _so bad_.

Or so good?

He wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that his dick had never been harder and the tug in his gut was the most insistent it’d ever been. God, he wanted to come.

But Sicheng wanted to see him go soft, so he took a deep breath, furrowed his brows and focused on the ceiling. 

Sicheng didn’t take too long to come back with a warm towel, which he used to wipe away the sweat on Yuta’s body. He sat beside him, one hand on Yuta’s stomach while the other scrolled through his phone, as if he couldn’t care any less.

It took him what felt like forever, but after counting in his head and getting lost in the numbers, Yuta’s dick finally started to calm down. It still hurt, and arousal didn’t stop burning inside him, but he forced the dirty images away and thought only of satisfying Sicheng.

Slowly, he became soft.

“There you go,” Sicheng beamed, finally looking down at him. He set his phone down and laid beside him, pulling him into his arms. “What a good boy. My good boy, you listen to me so well. So obedient.”

Yuta moaned softly.

“Sicheng…”

“Do you want to take a nap, babe?”

No, he wanted to fucking come.

“Yeah.”

“Hm, you deserve one, come here."

And despite how sensitive he was, how dramatically his body responded to every little touch, Yuta fell asleep.

Yes, he was well aware he couldn’t run away from talking forever, but that didn’t mean he was any less prepared to wake up to Sicheng looking down at him with heart eyes. It made him feel horrible, almost nauseous, even, because dammit, why couldn’t he just be a normal human being with normal feelings?

“Hey,” Sicheng smiled, so cutely Yuta crumbled.

“No,” he said, sitting up with a start — which fucking hurt his stupidly sensitive dick. “No, no, no.”

“Woah, hey.” Sicheng gently touched his shoulder, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Was it too much? Do you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Yuta grumbled, rubbing his eyes. God, he hated this. “It’s just… I can’t do this.”

“What? Did we do something you didn’t like?”

“Fuck, no. Absolutely not.” He dragged in a nervous breath. “I loved it. The sex. It was fucking bomb, actually, but…”

Sicheng frowned.

“You don’t like me?”

He winced.

“Yes and no.”

“What?”

Yuta fumbled with his hands, unsure of what to do with himself. What if Sicheng found it weird? What if he thought he was just a complete psycho? Ugh.

“I don’t like people.”

“That sounds awfully emo.”

Yuta barked a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. Sicheng was grinning, but there was a serious glint in his eyes, like he was ready to listen to whatever Yuta had to say.

“I don’t really… I don’t vibe with romance, I guess?”

“Oh, did your past relationships go wrong?”

“What— ew, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just, argh. It’s complicated.”

“I’ll listen.” As if to prove his point, Sicheng scooted in front of him and propped his chin on his hand, looking up through his thick lashes.

“I guess I kind of never wanted to date anyone? Like, I’ve never even come _close_ to liking someone in that way. I don’t know why, and this might be sounding like a stupid excuse — I promise you, it’s not — but me and romance just don’t go well.”

Sicheng was quiet for a while, as if he were scanning Yuta’s words in his head.

“So…” he started, slowly, “You’re aromantic?”

“Aro-what?”

Yeah.

So.

Yuta found out he was aromantic, which was pretty fucking cool because _finally_ he didn’t feel like some freak in a world of romance and lovesick people.

Also, Sicheng was pretty chill about it. He admitted he’d been planning on asking Yuta out on a date, but was totally fine when he said no.

They still went out. It wasn’t romantic, and it wasn’t a date, but Yuta still had fun.

Also, the sex was bomb as fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D  
> i'm thinking of maybe making this into a series with other members, so feel free to leave your requests and I'll see which ones I can fit in (and it doesn't have to be with just the mentioned members! i can include anyone :))  
> if you can, please leave a comment! i'd love to read what you thought


End file.
